"What do we do now?" Hermione cried in a shrill and panicked voice.

"Well, for a start, we don't panic," Harry replied.

"Don't panic!" Hermione shrieked, incredulously. "How can you say that? How can you be so calm? Molly has killed Hector … he's dead, and so is our future."

"Our future is not dead … and neither is Hector," Harry muttered, ruffling through some papers on the desk to the right of the room. "In fact, I'm not sure he ever lived at all."

Hermione blinked in her confusion. "Harry - have you lost your mind? I'm cradling a dead corpse in my arms, the corpse of Hector Dagworth-Granger. If he's dead now, then he was definitely living not so long ago."

"You're cradling a corpse, yes, but it isn't Hector … at least, not according to these documents."

Hermione grimaced in a mixture of surprise and disgust and pushed the dead body away from her lap. "Urgh. Then who is it? Who has Molly killed?"

"That man's name is - or was - Maurice Dagworth," Harry revealed, sliding a parchment identity sheet over to Hermione after she leapt up and joined him at the desk.

Hermione's eyes flashed over the document at rapid speed. "It says here that he is the judge due to attend the trial today. Look! His schedule there confirms it!"

"And he has to pass judgement on the Weasleys," Harry added, flicking through the scattered papers of an open folder. "And four other families, too. Including the Diggorys. Fancy that. You know, it really irritates me when you see just how many Magical families were willing to support Grindelwald in his blood war … it makes you wonder just how many of them would have secretly supported Voldemort, too."

"I'm not sure the support would have been all that secret," Hermione muttered darkly. "The ideals of both tyrants were strikingly similar, and the world view of many Magicals, who we might consider moderate or tolerant, skirt the borders of the ideas of supremacy anyway. I don't think it would be much of a stretch for such families to switch sides."

"That's a bit harsh," Harry frowned. "I don't see the Weasleys as blood supremacists. For all that Molly is doing now, I'd draw a line at outright bigotry. The Weasleys suffered losses to Voldemort don't forget."

"The two things aren't mutually exclusive," Hermione argued. "Sometimes, the most worrying form of racism is the one conducted in ignorance or worse … not seeing that those actions and opinions are wrong. "

"How do you mean?" Harry asked, turning with a curious expression.

"Well, didn't you ever get offended by the way that Arthur, Ron and others decried the Muggle world, even if it was in a jokey and jovial style?" Hermione questioned, cautiously. "You were raised a Muggle, don't forget, just as I was. And I know how I felt to those slanders."

"You were offended? By what?" Harry asked, irritation stirring in his gut before he'd even understood why.

"By the way that Arthur in particular looked at the Muggle world as quaint and backwards, like Muggles were curiosities to goggle at in a zoo," Hermione went on, bitterly. "Ron was simply dismissive of all things Muggle … his view was akin to the sort of thing Draco Malfoy might have said. Every time he criticised the Muggle world, I felt a bit of that … I felt insulted on behalf of a culture not there to defend itself."

"And you decided to be his girlfriend, even with such strength of feeling?" Harry quirked.

Hermione blushed and looked away. "I hoped I might educate him in time. I was a Muggle, and if he really cared for me it might change his opinion on things."

"Educate Ron?" Harry scoffed, derisorily. "You tried that for six years at Hogwarts … remind me how you got on with that? I love Ron, but being a student never suited him!"

"I wish I could argue against that," Hermione sighed in defeat. "But didn't you feel the insults too? You were a Muggle once."

"But my life as a Muggle wasn't like yours," Harry reminded her. "I didn't grow up in a house of love and support … my experience of it was very different. Very, very different."

Hermione dropped the identity parchment and stepped close to Harry. She took his forearm in her hands ans spoke softly.

"You … you've never told me all about that. Not everything, anyway."

"I've never told anyone everything," Harry mumbled meekly. "I don't know that I ever will. It's best not to ask, Hermione … those wounds run pretty deep. It was the sort of thing only a strong life partner would be able to hear … anyone else would likely run a mile."

"And you decided that was Ginny?" Hermione scoffed.

"No. I never intended to tell her."

"And do you intend to tell me?" Hermione asked, gently.

"I think the other me would have told the other you," Harry muttered, curling his eyes away. "He knew what he had, even if I didn't. He would have felt safe enough to tell you anything."

"And, like the other me, this Hermione wants to hear it, too," Hermione soothed. "When we are past this, when we put things right, I'm going to build that sort of trust with you again, Harry … I'll make you feel that level safe with me. I promise."

Harry wanted to kiss her again, but he held firm. They had to earn that sort of reward by dealing with the problems at hand. "I believe you. But we have to act fast to stop Molly, so that we have a future to go back to."

"The first thing is to establish what she's doing," Hermione said. She began pacing the room as she thought aloud. "We can make some pretty solid assumptions with what we have to go on already."

"Such as the fact that she's killed poor Maurice over there and intends to take his place as a judge," Harry sniped.

"And then give an alternative decision that, we can assume, will absolve the Weasleys of any blame or culpability in their connection to Grindelwald," Hermione added.

"Allowing the birth of daughters in the future."

"Allowing the rise of Ginevra flipping Weasley! Allowing her to take my place as your future wife!" Hermione spat in her ire. "I really hate her for that!"

Then Hermione gasped and flung a hand to her mouth. It was the first time in this universe that she'd voiced aloud her desire to become Hermione Potter. It marked a watershed moment between these two best of friends.

"I … I've crossed a line, haven't I?" Hermione whispered in a shaky voice.

"Yes, but you didn't even flinch at the border," Harry grinned as he crossed the room to her. "I think the other you would be proud … shows she still in there somewhere."

"She's in here everywhere," Hermione argued hotly, pointing at her chest. "Ever since she visited us in my attic, I don't think she ever truly left me. Whatever happened to her in the future, I feel her inside me now, waiting to get out."

"Then let's help her," Harry declared.

"How?"

"By creating the very person we came here to find."

Hermione crinkled her eyes. "Create?"

"Yes," Harry replied simply. "I think I'm starting to understand now why we couldn't find any prior mention of Hector Dagworth-Granger in the historical record. There wasn't any … because I don't think he existed until today."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Think about it," Harry pressed. "Molly has come back here make sure that the No Daughter Curse on the Weasley family isn't cast, and we've assumed that she wants to turn that curse against your ancestor to stop you being born. But what if that isn't possible? What if there is no justification to curse your forebears in place of the Weasleys?"

"Then … Molly would have to find another way," Hermione gasped in horror. "By murdering my great-grandfather, or whoever this man was!"

"Exactly," Harry riled. "We've been looking for evidence in the wrong place, Hermione. We focused on the historical records of the Magical world, when all we really needed was an accurate copy of your family tree."

"But this man is called Dagworth, not Dagwoth-Granger," Hermione pointed out reasonably.

"He's also called Maurice, not Hector," Harry grinned. "Is it really a coincidence that one of your favourite stories is The Iliad?"

Hermione blinked in surprise. "I didn't know you knew that. Come to think of it, how do you know that?"

"I'm not so unobservant," Harry quipped. "I watched you a lot, especially when I thought you weren't looking, and even more especially when you were relaxing. It relaxed me to see that crinkle of concentration absent from your forehead for a bit. I always thought that it was because I liked seeing you stress-free … but I'm not sure that's the truth any more."

"Then what is?"

"I … I think it's because that's when I find you at your most attractive," Harry replied, bashfully. "Cosily curled up with a mug of Earl Grey and a good book, one to get lost in and not plough for answers to an essay problem. It's quintessentially you, at your most comfortable, and I don't think there's a sight more beautiful under the sky."

And Hermione showed far less restraint than Harry had earlier. She swooped close and dragged his face down to hers, their lips meeting with unfettered abandon. It was a full minute before they drew breathlessly apart.

"When did you learn to say these things to me?" Hermione swooned.

"Must have been in our other life," Harry grinned. "Maybe part of that is bleeding in to me, too."

"Then let's start a new bloodline to bring them closer," said Hermione. "That's your plan, isn't it? To turn me into Hector?"

Harry nodded. "If we create Hector now we can actually start the Granger family, by adding your surname to the Dagworth family line."

"And, as we create it, it will be almost impossible for Molly to erase my origins," Hermione cried in triumph.

"Unless she tries to kill us both," Harry added, grimly.

"Pfft, let her come and try!" Hermione scoffed. "We beat Voldemort, Harry … I don't think we have much to fear from a walking Weasley baby factory!"

Harry tittered at that. "The only thing we really have to do is to get to Molly before the trial and try to find a way to disgrace Maurice, but not in a way that is unforgivable. Just enough to make his children drop the Dagworth portion of his new name."

"But how to we get him to take on that name?" Hermione fretted. "He's dead after all."

"Can we fake a marriage certificate?" Harry asked in hope.

And suddenly , Hermione was feverish with potent energy.

"That's it, Harry! That's it!" Hermione cried, her eyes gleaming with the sheen of victory. "That's Molly's mistake! She will be tested under oath before she takes a Seat of Judgement at the trial, and she wont be able to hoodwink it. When the test discovers Maurice is dead, it will fall to his next of kin to take his place. All we have to do is doctor the records to say that Hector is his successor."

"Is that how it works?" Harry asked, doubtfully. "I would have expected a judge like Maurice to be qualified for the job?."

"This is where the archaic practices of a peer-driven society can work in our favour for once," Hermione sang excitedly. "This was a trial presided over by peers of the accused, I read that back in our time … they needed no formal qualifications in the law at all. It's a bit backwards to you and me, but this is just how things worked. They probably still do, come to think of it. We can use this to our advantage now."

"By positioning you-as-Hector as the one to take Maurice's place," Harry nodded as comprehension settled on him. "So … it's going to be you who condemns the Weasleys to never have daughters. Poetic, really, that you get to prevent the very creation of the girl designed to supplant you in my life."

"We'll write our own epic poem to immortalise it," Hermione laughed. "It'll be our own version of The Iliad!"

"Okay. So … how do we start your transformation?"

Hermione gulped hard as she considered how best to begin. She blinked at Harry.

"You …you're going to have to cut my hair."

Harry shook his head. "No. I like your bushy locks. You wouldn't be you without them."

"It's just hair. It'll grow back," Hermione insisted. "We have to make this convincing. There will be photographers there and those pictures will survive into the future. Remember the first rule of time-travel, Harry."

"You must not be seen," Harry recited. "Even all the way into the future? Even though we weren't born when these pictures will be taken?"

"Not ever," Hermione confirmed. "There can be no corruption to the continuum. We are too well known in our time … eventually, someone will spot something. All it takes is for a hack like Rita Skeeter to go digging and unearth something and it could trigger all sorts of ripple effects."

"And, as we've seen, those effects wont necessarily travel forwards in time," Harry mused. "They could go backwards, too, and who knows what might happen then."

"Precisely," Hermione agreed. "So, we have to cut my hair and change my appearance a bit. I might need to borrow your glasses, too. Now take out your wand … and try to cut my fringe in a straight line!"